“As my son, but not as my heir, for your most unhappy mother—­”

“STOP!!” suddenly exclaimed the young man, while his blue eyes blazed with a dangerous fire.  “I warn you, Duke of Hereward, that you must not breathe one word reflecting in the least degree on my dear, injured mother’s name.  You have wronged her enough, Heaven knows! and I, her son, tell you so.  Yes! from the beginning to end, you have wronged her grievously, unpardonably.  First of all, in marrying her at all, when you must have seen—­you could not have failed to see—­that she, gentle and helpless creature that she was, was forced by her parents to give you her hand, when her broken heart was not hers to give!  And, secondly, when she discovered that the lover (to whom she had been sacredly married by the church, though it seems not lawfully married by the state,) and whom she had supposed to be dead, was really living; and when she took the only course a pure and sensitive woman could take, and withdrew herself from you both, writing to you her reasons for doing so, and expressing her wish to live apart a quiet, single, blameless life, you did not wait, you did not investigate, but, with indecent haste, you so hurried through with your divorce, and hurried into your second marriage, as to brand my mother with undeserved infamy, and delegalized her son and yours before his birth.”

“Heaven help me,” moaned the Duke of Hereward, covering his face with his hands.

“You have done us both this infinite wrong, and you cannot undo it now.  I know that you cannot, for I have taken the pains to seek legal advice, and I have been assured that you cannot rectify this wrong.  But—­use my injured mother’s sacred name with reverence, Duke of Hereward, I warn you!—­”

“Heaven knows I would use it in no other way!  I loved your mother.  She and you were not the only sufferers in my domestic tragedy.  Her loss nearly killed me with grief even when I thought her unworthy.  The discovery of the great wrong I did her has nearly crazed me with remorse since that.”

“Then do not grudge her son the small share you allow him of that vast inheritance which should have been his, had you not unjustly deprived him of it.”

“I will not.  Your debts shall be paid.”

“And do not upbraid me by drawing any more invidious comparisons between me and one who holds my rightful place.”

“I will not—­I will not.  John we understand each other now.  Your manner has not been the most filial toward me, but I will not reproach you for that.  You say that I have wronged you; and you know that wrong can never be righted in this world.  ‘If I were to give my body to be burned,’ it could not benefit you in the least toward recovering your position; but I will do all I can.  I will sell Greencombe, which is my own entailed property, and I will place the money with my banker, Levison, to your account.  I have a pleasant little shooting-box at the foot of Ben Lone.  We never go to it.  You must have the run of it during the vacations.  When you are ready for your commission I will find you one in a good regiment.  In return I have one request to make you.  For Heaven’s sake avoid meeting the duchess or her family.  Do this for the sake of peace.  I hope now that we do understand each other?” said the duke with emotion.